


Stranded Apart

by In_Dreams



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Aurors, Camping, F/M, Fishing, Fluff and Humor, Forced Proximity, HP Fluff Fest 2020, Light Angst, Ministry of Magic Employee Draco Malfoy, Ministry of Magic Employee Hermione Granger, Teambuilding, Wilderness Survival
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-27
Updated: 2020-09-27
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:26:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25837228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/In_Dreams/pseuds/In_Dreams
Summary: Lost in the wilderness without their wands, Hermione and Draco will need to learn to work together if they want to make it out in one piece.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Comments: 24
Kudos: 287
Collections: HP Fluff Fest 2020





	Stranded Apart

**Author's Note:**

> Author's Note: This piece was written for the HP Fluff Fest 2020. Thank you to the admins for putting together this wonderful fest. My prompt was as follows: Lost without wands! A and B are lost in the English countryside on an Auror training/teambuilding exercise. They have to cope for two days without their wands. How will they manage?
> 
> Thanks to my alpha Kyonomiko and beta mightbewriting for their assistance.
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own any part of the Harry Potter franchise and no copyright infringement is intended.

"So," Hermione prompted, her fingers mourning the absence of her wand at her waist. "Do you know exactly what we're meant to do out here for the next—forty-seven hours and fifty-eight minutes?" Her gaze flickered to her watch.

Malfoy only lifted a brow. "Survive."

Never would Hermione Granger have imagined herself stuck in the wilderness, without her wand, alone with no one for company other than the most frustrating man she had ever met—who also happened to be her partner in the Auror's Office.

Not that she'd had any say in that matter, mind you. Her complaints had repeatedly fallen on deaf ears for the past six months, and the only reason she hadn't walked away entirely was that she enjoyed her job, she had worked hard to complete her Auror training, and she wasn't willing to give Draco Malfoy the _satisfaction_ of driving her away, the cocky git.

Unkempt grasses and shrubs reached up all around them, but off in the distance to their right she could see a rocky outcropping and the beginnings of a forest. The way the scrub tickled her ankles made her think of what else might be living out there and an involuntary shiver chased the length of her spine.

When Head Auror Robards had first announced that their assignment would be _a little different_ than usual, Hermione thought he was referring to a stake-out, or perhaps something undercover.

A trust-building exercise in the middle of the English countryside was the last thing she would have expected.

"I suppose we should find shelter," she offered.

Even though they didn't always get along, they had learned how to tolerate one another's existence for the sake of a goal, and this would be more or less the same thing.

Evidently Malfoy hadn't had a partner during the year she'd been behind him in training because no one else was willing to trust a former Death Eater with their life. Not that Hermione _was_ , but she'd never even been granted the choice.

Order of Merlin indeed.

Whatever motivation had driven him to pursue a position in the Auror's office—admirable though it might have been—ultimately didn't foster any good will between them. Although in all fairness, Hermione hadn't been the most receptive to the assignment with her raised hackles off the top, and she'd most assuredly bruised his ego.

But he'd put her through hell as a child, and she wasn't interested in hearing about his changed intentions until she'd seen so for herself.

Which had left them at an icy impasse—at best—for over half a year as they'd tried to learn how to work together for the betterment of wizarding society. Hermione knew it was obvious they weren't the _most_ cohesive unit in the department, but she hadn't realised it was _that_ bad.

"Right," he muttered with a nod. "We'll go through the packs" —he brandished his own, the strap looped around one shouder— "and see what Robards has given us."

Without discussion, they both turned for the distant woods. Hermione had no interest in spending the next two days in the grass, fully exposed to the elements and whatever else they might find.

"Do you know how to hunt without magic?" she asked, shooting him an expectant stare.

Malfoy only scoffed, kicking the grass as he walked. "No, I don't know how to hunt, Granger."

Hermione only rolled her eyes. "How would I know? Wealthy people like that sort of thing."

A light smattering of raindrops began to fall and Malfoy shrugged the hood of his jumper atop his head. It felt strange seeing him without a shirt and tie or Auror robes, but they'd been told to dress casually.

"Father used to hunt with some colleagues when I was a boy but I never cared to go along. Although, I don't suppose that sort of experience would come in handy out here anyways, unless you have a team of hounds or a crossbow in your pack."

Under her breath, she muttered, "Obviously not." As she pushed to keep up with his longer stride, she added, "I imagine you aren't very useful with any Muggle survival tactics."

"Probably not," he drawled with a derisive sigh, "given I've never had cause to learn any."

She certainly wasn't an expert either, but she'd been on enough camping trips with her parents growing up that she knew the basics. Her experiences while on the run with Harry and Ron, though she'd learned a lot about survival, had benefited from the vital inclusion of her magic.

Tense silence characterised the rest of their walk as they neared the edge of the woods. Several large boulders lingered along the outside, but deeper inside the trees grew thick and lush, offering options for shelter—both for the pair of them and for whatever else lurked within.

As if following along the same train of thought, Malfoy peered into the woods with distaste. "We should probably stay close to the treeline," he said with a sniff. "In case there are bears or mountain lions or… something."

"Are you even aware of the local fauna at all?" Hermione asked, shooting him a stare.

Malfoy released an irritated huff.

"Fine," she said, shaking her head. She cleared a patch of ground just along the edge of the forest, sitting down in the dirt and starting to remove things from her pack. Malfoy eyed the ground for a long moment before he swept the leaves and twigs from a flat boulder and perched on the edge before following suit.

Hermione was relieved to see Robards hadn't completely forsaken them—but she hoped this exercise wasn't about making them fight to survive, but rather to learn to cooperate.

Her pack contained a flashlight, a sleeping bag, a folded canvas tarp, a large sheathed knife, several packets of dried meat and fruit, a whistle, and a thick pair of woolen socks. She had two water bottles, one empty and the other full. When she glanced over at Malfoy, he'd laid out several similar items although she noticed he'd been given certain things she didn't have, including a flint and steel for a firestarter.

"Oh good," she breathed, "you'll be able to create a fire."

Malfoy stared at his items for a moment, before his gaze slid up to hers. "Using what?" He brandished his flashlight by the wrong end. "This?"

Narrowing her eyes, she stared at him as she tried to work out whether he was having a lark. But the way his eyes shifted away, a mild downturn to his lips, suggested he wasn't being facetious.

"That is a flashlight," she said quietly, lifting her own from the pile. She pressed a rubber button on the side and a flare of light illuminated the forest's shadows. "We'll need them to see at night."

It couldn't hurt if she took a little pity on him. For as disconcerted as she felt at the prospect of being stuck in the wilderness with Malfoy for two days, at least she had a certain level of knowledge about Muggle tools and camping. She could only imagine how uncomfortable he felt, especially since he probably expected her to tease him about his lack of said knowledge.

Carefully, she sifted through his things on the rock beside him, explaining the functionality of each. Malfoy didn't respond other than to nod, but she thought she saw a flicker of gratitude in his eyes.

Hermione rose from the ground, securing the holstered knife to her belt. "I'll go in a short way to see if I can find some dry tinder for a fire. Why don't you scout out a good place we can use for shelter? We'll need access to water so keep that in mind."

"Fine," he bit out, but there wasn't any malice to his words.

"Take your whistle," she added before she walked away, "just in case."

Malfoy fingered the plastic gadget with a frown before lifting it to his mouth and blowing. He recoiled at the high-pitched noise and looped the cord around his neck with a roll of the eyes. "I'd like to make it known," he clipped, "that I think this entire situation is rubbish."

"You aren't alone," Hermione grumbled. The whole thing was painfully reminiscent of the time she'd spent on the run with Harry and Ron, which had offered its own set of struggles despite them having magic. "Let's just do our best and try not to kill each other. Knowing Robards, if we don't figure something out, he could very well just leave us here."

Even though he continued to look utterly displeased, Malfoy released a low snicker before venturing off along the edge of the treeline.

Hermione watched him go, uncertain whether she should be trusting him with such an important task. She entered the woods, collecting dried sticks as she went. They hadn't been entrusted with an axe or a hatchet; she wondered what that signified about Robards' interpretation of their working relationship. The lack of a proper tool forced her to rely on the sticks and twigs she could find for their fire.

They were obviously in a rainy climate—though she wasn't certain they were still in England—given the foliage was rich and lush, and the ground beneath her feet damp and mossy. Despite the rain she was able to scrounge up a solid armful of dry fodder before she retraced her path back towards their packs.

Malfoy wasn't in sight when she arrived, so she dropped her heavy load to the ground before heading in the direction he'd gone. She found him a short distance away, his arms folded across his chest, scowling at a small grove of trees with an opening through the centre. She could faintly hear the trickle of running water.

"What are you doing?" she huffed, brushing a scrap of bark from her palm. "This is fine—let's bring our stuff over here."

He frowned briefly in her direction. "I'm attempting to use wandless magic."

"That won't work," she muttered, rolling her eyes. "Even if you were able to utilise enough to do anything worthwhile, Robards will have thought of that in advance. You're just going to have to sacrifice some of your delicate pureblood sensibilities and rough it through the next two days."

Malfoy pressed the tips of his fingers to his temples, his eyes fluttering briefly shut. "Must you be _so_ critical all of the time? I'm trying to erect a ward to keep us safe."

"Oh." Feeling suitably chastened, Hermione glanced around, toeing the moss with her trainer. "We'll just have to keep an eye out for wildlife. We might need to take turns keeping watch at night if we're concerned."

His jaw clenched into a hard line but he didn't say anything more.

She hardly thought the situation was ideal either, but there was nothing they could do about it. Robards had been very forthcoming that they would be picked up in forty-eight hours and there was no sense in trying to get back to London on their own.

Idly, Hermione wondered whether he'd established some sort of magical boundary to keep them from trying. Furthermore, in the back of her mind she wondered why he cared _so_ much—she and Malfoy clearly didn't get along, so why not just separate them and assign them different partners?

But Robards' motives were neither here nor there when considering the immediate needs of their survival situation.

Leaving Malfoy to his attempts, Hermione trekked back to collect her pack, carefully stowing all of her items in separate pouches so she would know how to find them, before picking up her pile of tinder. Partway through, Malfoy joined her, collecting his own items, and hefting two-thirds of the wood easily from her hold.

"Thanks," she said, a little out of breath from the effort.

Once they arrived back at the site he'd selected, Malfoy looked away, carefully setting his pile of wood on the ground as he rummaged for the flint from his pack.

"We'll need to pool our dried food supply," Hermione announced as she watched him eye the tools, his expression stoic before he set them aside again. "And decide how we want to ration it. My guess is that it won't be enough and we'll need to supplement with whatever we can find in the wilderness."

Since they'd arrived, Malfoy had looked as if he couldn't quite believe his present reality, and was simply waiting to wake up from a nightmare.

"I don't know anything about what is and isn't safe to eat," he snipped. "So hopefully you do."

Hermione released a long breath, sinking onto the flat rock. "I've not been hunting but I _do_ know how to fish if there is anything in the stream. Unfortunately, we don't have any fishing supplies."

Malfoy brandished the canvas tarp she'd been given. "Is this for the ground?"

Hermione eyed him for a moment, snagging her bottom lip between her teeth. "We could lay it on the ground, or we could use it to fabricate a roof over the grove in case it rains."

Releasing a heavy sigh, his gaze drifted up towards the sky. The slight rain that followed them towards the woods had moved on, leaving a pale blue sky in its wake. Malfoy's attitude was beginning to wear her down as he paced into the woods and back out, folding his arms as if he wasn't entirely certain what to do with himself.

"I'm going to get water," she said finally, collecting her empty bottle. "And I'll see whether there's anything in the stream."

He only offered an icy, "Fine," before digging out his own empty bottle and following as she sought the sounds of running water she'd heard earlier.

"Unfortunately, we don't have anything to purify the water," she said for the sake of making conversation, even though Malfoy remained rigidly silent at her side. "So we'll have to hope Robards thought of that in advance. I can't imagine his goal is to make us ill."

"I don't know, Granger," Malfoy drawled at last, "he did toss us out here alone. I get the impression he doesn't care all that much about making us suffer."

Despite everything, his words stung. _She_ wasn't the one always out to make things harder between them. She carried on, ignoring him and forcing her pace a little faster so she didn't need to walk directly with him; he didn't try to keep up.

When they arrived at the stream, Hermione was grateful to see it looked clear as it ran along a bed of rocks, but it wasn't deep enough to provide habitat for much; she could only hope it was an offshoot of a larger water system. But even if they couldn't fish, presumably _something_ had to live in the forest that they could catch.

Not that she had high hopes she'd be able to catch anything with only a knife.

Silently, they both filled their empty bottles, and Hermione took a long pull from hers before filling it once more. Then they began the trek back to their camp.

Realistically, if they couldn't get along well enough to manage a conversation, they would simply remain silent for two days—two miserable, torturous days—before they could return to proper society.

Malfoy laid out the tarp on the ground, taking a seat as he snagged a packet of dried fruit and tore it open, picking at the contents.

"We ought to make a plan for the food," Hermione clipped, shifting through and mentally cataloguing their food supply lest he eat all of his.

"It's two days, Granger. We aren't going to starve."

When she didn't answer but to release a breath through her nose, he snickered, shaking his head. "You're going to ignore me the entire time out here, aren't you? Although I suppose I prefer that to your derisive, judgemental comments."

" _My_ comments—" she snapped, fuming.

Chewing a dried apple ring, he returned with a pronounced, "Yup."

There was no sense in building a fire when she was likely to throw him into it, so she only scowled at the collection of tinder. "I'm not the one who makes things so miserable between us."

"You sure about that?" His wry flippancy ground on her last nerve and they'd barely been out there an hour. "Because it's always seemed to _me_ that you've never even been willing to give me a chance as your partner."

"You didn't want me as a partner," she snapped, "and you've made that plenty clear."

Malfoy only offered a shrug, finishing off the packet of fruit. "You were the only person they even tried to partner me with. Obviously we never got along growing up, but I'd hoped we'd be able to put it past us."

She didn't care for his tone, and the implied message that _he_ had been willing to make the effort when she had not.

"Maybe if you'd ever _considered_ apologising."

His grey eyes darted up to seek hers from the other side of the tarp. A heavy silence blanketed the forest air between them. "Do you remember our first case together?"

"Of course."

It had been a menial task, little more than a robbery investigation, but they'd managed to solve the case with relative ease. Despite not knowing one another in the context of a working environment, they'd been able to use their combined brain power to come to a conclusion.

"So you remember how I suggested we go for dinner afterwards. To celebrate," he mused, then quieter, "and to talk."

Hermione wrinkled the bridge of her nose at the memory. She'd denied the offer, having had no interest in spending time with him outside of work.

"Or the time after we solved our third case, and I offered to buy you a drink," he went on.

"The way you phrased it sounded like you were coming on to me," Hermione snipped, folding her arms across her front.

Malfoy huffed a sigh, planting his hands behind him on the tarp and leaning back. "You're always quick to speak, Granger, but when have you ever tried to listen?"

The words niggled below the surface of her skin, colour flaring along her throat and creeping into her cheeks. "I always—" But she cut herself off with a frown. "Perhaps I could do a better job of listening."

A smirk played across his lips but he only shook his head. "I've been hoping to work things out between us for a long time now. But every time I suggest anything you assume I'm asking you out. Which, by the way, has not been the case. Seems to me that would be horribly unprofessional." He cleared his throat, dragging a hand along the back of his neck.

Her face stung with warmth as she stared aggressively at the mossy earth. "You're acting like you've never said anything negative to me these past six months."

Malfoy shrugged again. "So we're both at fault, to an extent. But maybe it's time to put things behind us. For what it's worth, Granger, I _am_ sorry for the way I treated you in school. I didn't know what I was doing or saying until it was too late. Furthermore, I was glad when Robards assigned me to work with you, and not only because you were my first partner."

Hermione wasn't certain she was willing to unpack that last sentiment, what with so many other things he'd said whirling around in the back of her mind. "I appreciate that." Blowing out a breath, she added, "I accept your apology. I'm sorry for the time I hit you in third year."

He snorted low in his throat. "I was asking for it."

"Still." A hint of a smile tugged at her lips and she glanced his way. "Fine, Malfoy—I'm not saying everything will be sunshine and rainbows, but let's both make an effort to get through these next two days and see how it goes, alright?"

"Fine by me," he said, sitting forward again before brandishing the flint. "Now—how in the name of Merlin am I supposed to start this damn fire?"

* * *

By the time the sky began to darken, making a concerted effort to get along with Draco Malfoy had thoroughly exhausted Hermione. She could tell he struggled as well. Old habits died hard, and the pair of them shared a tumultuous history.

They'd managed to build a fire, but after a half-hearted attempt in the woods with their knives, they'd come back empty-handed with regards to anything they could cook. Not that such a failure surprised Hermione, since between the two of them, they had exactly zero experience with hunting.

Hermione had followed the stream for a while, hoping it would branch into something deeper, but after twenty minutes she'd turned around, not of a mind to stray too far from their camp.

They'd set out their sleeping bags atop the tarp—even though Hermione had wanted to use it as a covering above them—and split a pack of dried jerky between them. Hunger clawed at her stomach, especially after expending a fair amount of energy on their failed hunting attempts.

Hopefully, from the other side of the night, things would look more promising. They had a decent understanding of the landscape around them now, and Hermione had seen a few small forest critters—a handful of squirrels and a rabbit. Nothing larger had crossed their paths, and she hoped to keep it that way.

They'd gathered more dry wood from deeper in the interior of the forest after they'd conceded defeat with their hunting trip, and a healthy pile sat on one corner of the tarp; hopefully it would be enough to get them through the night and keep away any larger beasts that might seek to investigate.

"You can sleep first," Malfoy offered as he gazed into the fire. "I'm not tired yet."

Worrying her bottom lip, she stared at him for a moment. "Are you certain? Wake me if anything happens or if you get tired."

Malfoy held a thick piece of a branch, picking at it with the tip of his knife as he nodded. The orange glow of the fire flickered, reflecting off the pale shade of his hair and throwing the lines of his face into sharp relief.

Hermione stared at him for a moment; after they'd discussed some of their issues, he'd been a better companion than she'd expected. Although she still wasn't certain she trusted him to look out for them both, she already felt the tug of sleep on her eyelids and she tucked herself into her sleeping bag, forced to rely on Malfoy's natural self-preservation instincts.

"Thanks," she offered, stifling a wide yawn.

Though she was exhausted, Hermione couldn't help but watch Malfoy as he idly carried on with his task, and she realised he was carving something out of the wood.

"Malfoy," she said quietly; his gaze snapped to her, expression startled. "Why did you want to become an Auror?"

He gave a half-hearted shrug with one shoulder, his gaze landing on the fire again. "I don't know, Granger. Maybe I was tired of doing harm."

It wasn't what she'd expected, and she propped herself up on one elbow as she stared at him. "When I first heard, I thought Harry was playing a trick on me."

"They almost didn't let me in," he admitted. "I had to pass a _rigorous_ series of verbal examinations and interviews just to get into the training program. But… I guess I just didn't want the mistakes I'd made as a teenager to haunt me for the rest of my life. I wanted to make my own way."

Hermione peered up at him from her position on the ground, resting her face in her palm. At last, she breathed, "I can respect that."

With a gentle shrug, he glanced away and carried on once more with his carving. "I never expected people to understand. A lot of people believed certain things about me—and I'm well aware most of them were valid but..." He fell silent for a long moment, the dim light of the flames flickering across his face. "I don't know, Granger. At some point I stopped blindly carrying all the rhetoric and decided to do something for me."

Stifling a wide yawn, she nodded at last. "That makes sense."

"What about you?" He gave a quiet snicker. "Didn't get your share of saving the world back at Hogwarts? I honestly didn't think you'd want to become an Auror."

"I debated it for a long time," she sighed, "especially during our eighth year. There was a part of me that wanted to do something quiet—open a bookshop or something—but ultimately I suspected I might grow tired of that and wish I'd pursued _something_ more meaningful." Falling silent, she rolled to face the sky. It was unusual to see stars in the hazy skies around London, and she found herself following the lines of the constellations. "For a while I wanted to work in the Department of Magical Creatures, but in the end I decided to pursue an Aurorship."

"You don't need to do it forever I guess," Malfoy murmured, following her train of thought. "If you decide you don't like it one day." A slow smirk dragged his lips upwards. "Then you can open your bookstore."

A wistful smile tugged at her own mouth. "Yes. When I'm a little older."

The smirk widened into a grin. "I can see it."

"Yeah," she whispered, "me too."

"While we're being honest," he drawled, "I think your mind is well suited to being an Auror. The logic and the strategy."

Hermione felt a flare of colour in her cheeks and found herself grateful for the darkness; it was the longest they'd ever spoken, other than in the middle of research for a case, without snapping at one another. She couldn't remember whether she'd ever heard him compliment her before.

"Of the two of us," she breathed in return, "I think you're the more strategic one. Your brain works intuitively in ways that I need to actively work at."

Malfoy only shrugged again, peering closer at his carving as he dragged the blade of his knife along the surface. "Maybe Robards recognised that when he made us partners. Maybe there's a reason he's doing all of _this_ instead of just separating us."

"Maybe." Tucking herself deeper into her sleeping bag, she considered the thought, her eyes fluttering shut. When they weren't at one another's throats they _did_ work well together. They were both intelligent and liked to pursue a situation from every angle before coming to a conclusion. And in the midst of a fight, they worked well together to subdue a target.

Maybe she _did_ trust him more than she realised.

Reaching alongside him, Malfoy tossed a log into the fire, shooting up a small burst of sparks. Quietly, he said, "Get some sleep, Granger. We'll have another long day tomorrow."

Before she could properly respond, she drifted into an uneasy sleep.

* * *

Malfoy nudged Hermione awake. They'd traded every few hours in the night, and she'd found herself gazing into the low light of the fire for hours while he slept at her side; and when he'd awoken before dawn, claiming to be rested, she'd taken the opportunity for a bit more sleep.

But now, she scarcely needed the wakeup call.

Heavy raindrops pelted down through the canopy above, soaking through her sleeping bag and dousing the remains of their fire; thick grey smoke poured out from the ashes.

Cursing, she scrambled from the confines of her blankets, snatching up her bag where it lay beside her and swinging it onto her back as she moved beyond their grove and deeper into the forest. The heavy rainfall plastered her hair to her head, water dripping down her face and clothes as she stared miserably at their carefully collected firewood, soaked by the storm.

"Don't imagine you could have moved the wood somewhere dry," she snipped as Malfoy released a heavy sigh beside her.

He scowled at her. "Like I saw this coming."

"More than I did," Hermione huffed. "Given I was asleep and all."

Malfoy sneered, shouldering his pack as he veered off towards the stream. Clenching her jaw, she turned and watched him. Evidently their newfound camaraderie from the night before had disintegrated.

There would be no sense in rolling up her sleeping bag when it had been soaked through, so she draped it across a branch in as dry an area as she could see, the foliage thick enough overhead to keep the worst of the rain out.

Unfortunately, her pack had been saturated in the onslaught, but the rain still fell heavily as they walked, so there was nothing to be done.

"Bloody starving," Malfoy grumbled as she caught up to him; he'd made no effort to allow her to keep up as he paced ahead. He swung his pack from his shoulder, leaning against a tree as he rummaged through it. "Where did you put the rest of the food?"

"You had it," Hermione returned, stopping short. "Didn't you?"

The bridge of his nose wrinkled. "I thought you did."

Huffing a sigh, Hermione scounged through the wet contents of her own bag, increasingly desperate when she couldn't find the dried fruit and jerky they'd had left after a meagre dinner the night before.

Malfoy cursed, brandishing an empty packet.

"You _ate_ it?" she said with a huff of disbelief.

"Right, Granger," he drawled, "because I opened the package with my sharp rodent teeth."

Hermione peered closer, she could seesharp tears in the packaging and frowned; a tinge of shame coloured her cheeks for jumping to conclusions. With a groan he dragged the rest of the packages from his bag, and they'd all been similarly ravaged by some sort of critter in the woods.

She dragged a hand down her face, water seeping into her eyes as it slipped through gaps in the trees above. "So we have no way to make a fire and no food." As she spoke the words, a shiver chased down her spine with the cold.

"And no way to get dry," Malfoy huffed, folding his arms as he sunk back against a tree. "This is more and more ridiculous by the minute."

"Maybe if you hadn't left the food out," she said, shaking her head irritably.

As if rearing for a fight, Malfoy's stare tightened instantly. "It was _inside_ my bag which was closed—how was I to know it would be stolen?"

"Because we're in the middle of nowhere!" She threw her hands up, temper getting the best of her. "Animals are attracted to the scent of food. If you knew _anything_ about camping—"

"And _why_ would I bloody know anything about camping?"

"Fine, then," she snapped, "how about simple _logic_? Don't leave the firewood out where it'll get rained on. If we'd used the bloody tarp overhead, we could have avoided this."

Vaguely, she recognised that they were going in circles, and realistically she couldn't blame him for the rain destroying their warmth, even though violent shivers were beginning to wrack her frame as harsh winds gusted through the trees.

Malfoy glared at her, his jaw clenched into a tight line. "You sure are good at laying blame, aren't you, Granger? You can't possibly believe this is _my_ fault."

Hermione released a high-pitched, derisive laugh as she coiled her fingers around her drenched arms. "It sure seems like it's your fault!" Scowling at him, she shouldered her pack, despite that the contents were soaked through, and marched off into the woods without him.

But she should have known better than to believe Malfoy would actually let her go.

He stormed after her and caught up easily, his pale blond fringe plastered to his forehead and hanging limp, grey eyes flashing.

"Stop bloody running, Granger," he huffed, his fingers coiling around her elbow. Instinctively, she made to shrug him off but froze at something below the surface of his words. Resignation, or regret. It was enough for her to falter, the ire sinking as she crumpled back against a tree.

Somehow, warmth seeped through the thin fabric of her jumper where his fingers rested, providing a stark contrast to the cold causing her teeth to clatter. She stared at him.

"Look, Granger," he breathed, sweeping his fringe away with his other hand. "I know I haven't been very useful out here, but I need you to recognise that I'm trying. Please."

The last word fell from his lips on a breath so quiet she wasn't entirely certain she'd heard him right.

Suddenly, so many thoughts whirled around the back of her mind, refusing to settle into place or make sense as she gazed at him, water dripping down his face, his grey eyes earnest as they locked on hers.

"Why?" she whispered, pressing her lips together as she forced a swallow. "Why try so hard? Why not just ask Robards to partner you with someone else?"

"Because." Malfoy clenched his jaw again, uncertainty lingering in the tension of his face. "I don't want to prove myself to someone else. Not like with you."

He stood close enough that the faint heat emanating from his body was enough to subdue the worst of her shivers, her attention fixed only on him. She shook her head sharply. "What do you mean?"

"I told you last night." His thumb brushed against the bend of her arm, drawing a knit to her brow. "I refuse to let the past haunt me forever. I mean to make amends."

"With me." The words came out weaker than she'd intended them, her heart racing for a reason she couldn't quite fathom, even as she wasn't willing to drag her stare from his. Her brain felt murky, the cold casting a haze over her thoughts. " _Why_ me?"

Malfoy bit out a quiet laugh and she blinked at him, startled by his reaction. At last he huffed, "Merlin, Granger. Why _not_ you?"

Not fully of her own volition, her gaze flickered to his mouth and back up, only for an instant, her lips parting with a sharp breath at his words.

His brow furrowed, throat bobbing with a swallow. Then, before she could make sense of any part of their exchange, he ducked in, mouth brushing hers. His lips were cool, wet from the rain, but the barely-there contact stirred something within her as she gazed up at him.

"Malfoy," she whispered, her chest tight.

With a grimace, he muttered, "Sorry, I shouldn't have—"

Whatever else he meant to say died against her lips as she curled a hand around the back of his neck, drawing him in. So different from the first kiss, his mouth now firm and insistent against hers, causing heat to flare beneath her skin. His tongue met the seam of her lips, teasing her own.

Her fingers slid up into his hair, disheveled from the rain. One of his hands swept across her hip, pulling her flush against him.

Her chest heaved when they drew apart, his breath mingling with hers before he leaned back, expression cautious as he met her eyes. Hermione wasn't entirely certain what had just happened but she couldn't help her eyes from lingering briefly on his mouth again.

She couldn't say she'd never _considered_ the thought of him, but between the way they constantly drove one another spare and the fact that they worked together, she'd never allowed herself to dwell on those thoughts.

The sharp lines of his jaw. The stormy shade of his eyes. The way he looked when he cracked a rare grin. And the way he was one of the only other people in the Auror department who could carry a spirited debate with her.

Rarely was she lost for words, and he seemed to share the sentiment as he eyed her carefully; after a moment, he relinquished his hold on her and stepped back.

Hermione released a tight breath, grazing her fingertips along the back of his arm.

The rain had started to let up, the first cracks of blue sky breaking through above. Offering a hint of a smile, she murmured, "I guess we should see about finding something to eat."

His slow smirk set her heart racing in a way she hadn't quite expected.

* * *

Within an hour, the sun was peeking through the clouds again; they'd returned to their drenched camp. Malfoy picked through the pile of firewood, his expression contrite, before he rose to his feet.

"It's alright," Hermione offered, "we'll see if we can find some dry fodder for tonight."

It was difficult to comprehend they'd only just surpassed the halfway point of their forced wilderness Hermione still wasn't keen on the idea, their dynamic had shifted significantly after they'd kissed.

Malfoy frowned even as he nodded in response, unfolding the tarp from the ground and laying it across several sturdy branches to dry; Hermione stepped forward to assist him. Her fingers grazed his, briefly, before she moved back.

His gaze lifted to hers, a mischievous glint below the surface that ignited a swell of warmth within her.

He glanced away after a moment and announced, "I have an idea." He selected a long, narrow stick from the pile of wet firewood, bending it a little to be sure it wouldn't snap. Then he assessed the large flat rock with a grimace before taking a seat on its damp surface, rummaging through his bag for something.

Hermione watched, her eyes slightly narrowed as he withdrew a small coil of wire, slicing a length of it off with his knife against the rock with some effort. Opening her mouth to speak, she froze when he reached down to pull the shoelaces free of his trainers.

"Malfoy, what—"

"Give me your shoelaces. Please." He shot her a look and she obliged as the pieces started to click. With deft fingers, he tied his together with an intricate knot she didn't recognise, settling down on the rock beside him. "This won't break apart"—his gaze lifted to hers—"trust me."

Reaching down distractedly to remove her own laces, she asked, "Where did you learn that?"

"Old nervous fixation." He gave a bit of a self-deprecating chuckle as he accepted her laces, tying them into the length of his own. When he was through, he gave both ends a sharp tug and the connections held firm. He looped one end to the long stick and another to the length of wire, manipulating it into a fishhook-style curve with a frown.

She watched in surprise as he built a rudimentary fishing rod, even as she worried her bottom lip. "We didn't find any water deep enough to fish in."

Malfoy only gave a mild shrug. "We didn't go very far in." Fiddling with the hook, he added, "I don't know how well this is going to hold its shape but we can try it. My expertise ends at tying knots so you're going to have to catch us something."

Her lips curled up into a hesitant smile and she nodded. "I'll do my best."

He passed her the handle of the rod with a softer sort of smirk than she usually saw from him; her heart leapt unwittingly in her chest. "And if it doesn't work I'm out of ideas and I guess we're just going to starve."

Quietly, Hermione said, "Let's not starve. I think it might just work."

* * *

They followed along the stream bed for close to an hour before it connected with a deeper river system, maintaining as straight a bearing from their campsite as they could manage. Malfoy also had a compass in his pack—Hermione found it suspiciously clever of Robards that they hadn't been given the same things, forcing them to cooperate—and she'd been careful to track their path so they would be able to find their way back.

The longer they walked, the drier the ground became. Hermione collected some solid dry branches for their fire that night—and Merlin willing, if they were to catch a fish.

A gentle current carried the river downstream, and Hermione eyed it for a minute before adjusting the hook Malfoy had crafted. She hoped the wire was sturdy enough to hold, but he'd brought the rest of the spool in his pack just in case.

Hermione tried to remember everything her father had taught her about fishing before taking a seat on the raised bank and tossing the line into the water, hoping Malfoy's makeshift fishing rod would be efficient enough to catch something.

"We should have set up our camp here," Malfoy drawled, toeing the ground nearby. She followed his stare, her eyes bulging as she found him observing a large bush dotted with berries. "I _know_ these aren't poisonous."

"Are those wild raspberries?" she asked, her mouth watering at the thought.

"Yes. We had lots of raspberries on the Manor grounds." He popped one into his mouth and she froze, hesitant about eating anything if they weren't entirely certain, but he only flashed a grin and collected a handful. He withdrew one of the empty dried fruit packets and filled it before bringing it to her.

As he took a seat in the dirt beside her, Hermione released a sigh before glancing his way. "I'm sorry I lost my temper with you this morning. None of those things were your fault."

His shoulder brushed against hers. "It's alright. I know I'm not the easiest to get on with."

"Neither am I," Hermione admitted, dragging her bottom lip between her teeth. "But I've been thinking about it all day and you were right—I haven't been fair with you, and with us working together." She met his stare for a moment. "You're a good partner, Malfoy."

A genuine smile tugged at one corner of his mouth. "Thanks, Granger. So are you. I think if we learned to get along better we could be a pretty damn efficient team. I think _that's_ why Robards has done all this."

She gave a brief nod, drawing a breath for courage. "I want to try—to do better for my part."

For several minutes they picked at raspberries, and Hermione enjoyed the sweetness of them bursting on her tongue after having had so little to eat since they'd arrived in the wilderness.

Unprompted, squinting into the bright sky, Malfoy said, "Sorry I kissed you."

Hermione's lips twitched, even as she felt a sting of colour creep into her cheeks. "Are you, though?" He only smirked in return. "Sorry I kissed you back."

"It's alright I guess," he said with a vague shrug, leaning his hands back behind him. "Wasn't the _worst_ thing that's happened to me." Despite the nerves settled within her, she released a laugh, nudging him in the shoulder. He flashed her a cheeky smile and breathed, "I accept your apology."

"You're a right prat," she huffed.

"I _know_ you already knew that," he muttered, eyes locked on hers and sparkling with humour. He leaned forward, checking her fishing line, before brushing the dirt from his hands. It was oddly startling to see him with his hands dirty; never in a million years would she have imagined him as an outdoors type. Flippantly, he asked, "Do you think fish like raspberries?"

Something about the situation—the sun high overhead and heating the ground, the pair of them snacking on berries and waiting for a fish to bite—infused warmth within her and she found herself grinning at him.

"I don't know," she whispered, before she leaned to kiss him again.

While their first kiss that morning had been tinged with something a little more desperate and hesitant, this time when he kissed her back, his fingers grazing her cheekbone before sliding back into her curls, she felt heat bloom in her stomach.

His lips felt like decadence, his tongue tasted like raspberries, and Hermione smiled into the kiss, almost lazy and indolent before she drew back.

Resting her temple against his, she breathed, "Sorry I kissed you."

Malfoy only grinned and kissed her again.

When they finally drew apart, her heart hammering in her chest and an idle smile lingering on her lips, she drew in their makeshift fishing line and impaled a raspberry onto the curve of the hook. Meeting his eyes, she said, "Let's find out."

* * *

It took most of the afternoon, and despite Hermione having a belly full of raspberries, she craved solid food. They had nearly given up on the idea of fresh fish, watching the sun shift overhead to be sure they had enough time to get back to their camp before it grew dark, when she felt something tug on the line.

"Fish!" she exclaimed, jolting upright on the ground. Malfoy's eyes widened, gaping at the point where it vanished into the river. Lacking a reel, but with only a short line to bring in, she rose to her feet, tugging the rod carefully in case their wire hook were to give out.

Then she swung the line back towards the shore. A moderate-sized fish clung to Malfoy's hook, but it fell free just above the forest floor, flailing across the ground. He leapt away, such a look of horror on his face that Hermione couldn't help but burst out laughing.

"Catch it!" she said, tears from the force of her laughter blurring her vision as Malfoy prodded at the fish with a stick. He fired her a scowl before peering back down at the fish while it flopped on the mossy ground. Then, with an apologetic grimace, he released a sigh and picked up a large rock.

* * *

They made it back to their original campsite a little over an hour later. After the squall early that morning, the sun had shone overhead for most of the day, drying out their sleeping bags and the firepit they'd dug the day before.

Hermione was a little rusty with how to properly fillet a fish, but she'd managed, and they'd returned with several bags full of raspberries for dessert. As she built a fire, Malfoy fashioned a small cooking rack out of his spool of wire and she offered him a smile as she prepared the fillets over the fire.

Neither of them had mentioned it, but they'd left the tarp for cover above, settling down atop one of the sleeping bags as they waited for the fish to cook.

As the sun set, it cast their campground in early evening golds and shadows. Hermione glanced his way, her gaze landing on the way the light danced in the stubble along his jaw.

His hand sat on the sleeping bag next to hers, his pinky nudging against her own as he stared into the fire and said, "Nice fish you caught, Granger."

"Thanks," she breathed, a small smile tugging at her lips. "Nice fishing rod."

"Surprised it bloody worked to be honest," he muttered with a bark of laughter. His gaze flickered towards hers. "I've decided I'm not fond of camping."

Hermione released a bright laugh. "You could have fooled me."

With a roll of his eyes, he smirked, turning to face her. "But," he went on, letting the word hang between them, "it could be a lot worse."

His fingers grazed hers again, dancing across the back of her hand. Hermione swallowed, glancing away as she pulled her knees up to her chest. Although they'd shared a few kisses earlier, she had no idea about his intentions.

Idly, she twisted her hand beneath his, a breath catching in her throat as his fingers slipped between hers. Before she could stop herself, she whispered, "What is this?"

"I don't know," he replied with a thick swallow. "Call it summoning my Gryffindor side?"

A soft smile curled her lips. "I didn't think you had one."

"Neither did I." He offered a teasing grimace before shaking his head. "I don't know, Granger—would it be too forward to say I like you?"

Her heart leapt in her chest at the admission and she gave his hand a gentle squeeze as she rested her face atop her knees, turning to stare at him. "No, it wouldn't—but I admit I'm surprised. I haven't exactly made things easy on you."

"I've admired you for a long time now," he admitted, glancing away. "Maybe it's why I've been hoping we could learn to get along."

Even as she left their hands interlocked she breathed, "But we're partners."

"It isn't _explicitly_ against the rules." His eyes slid back to find hers, and she thought she saw a flush of pink in his cheeks. "I might've checked at one point."

"Merlin," Hermione breathed, stare locked on the hints of silver in his gaze. "You're serious."

His jaw clenched, a hint of discomfort flickering in his expression. "Only if you are. I don't mean to put any pressure on you—and I certainly didn't mean for things to happen like they did this morning."

A careful silence descended upon them, and Hermione considered his words. How much of her presumed animosity between them was still based in unwelcome and lingering remnants of hurts long gone?

Maybe she _had_ come to trust him more than she realised over the past six months, but she simply hadn't allowed herself to accept the fact that she didn't hate him anymore. If anything, she'd grown to admire him as well—the way his brain functioned, the logic with which he addressed every situation.

She could see the truth of his words plainly in his stare. He hid nothing facetious beneath his words. Why would he put himself into such a vulnerable situation if there was nothing for it?

No version of Malfoy she had ever known would do that.

At last, she blew out a breath, shifting closer into his side and drawing their joined hands into her lap. He said he hadn't meant for things to happen how they did that morning. She allowed a smile and whispered, "Maybe I'm glad they did."

Malfoy only leaned forward, turning the fillets of fish with a small tool he'd crafted from the last of the wire. But she knew him better than to think him flippant, and when he glanced her way again Hermione could see the cogs whirring in his gaze.

"Then so am I," he said quietly, reaching up to drag the backs of his knuckles along her cheekbone.

This time, when his lips grazed hers, she sank into his touch, allowing herself to indulge in thoughts of what could be. She smiled into the kiss, her tongue teasing against his as he pulled her closer, kissing her harder as he dragged his hands down her back, one threading into her curls. A soft whimper escaped her lips when his palm curled around her hip but they broke apart, breaths chasing from her lungs as she gazed at him.

"When we get back to London," he murmured against her lips, "I'm going to take you on a date, yeah? A nice meal or something." His grey eyes snapped open, seeking hers. "And it won't involve any fish _or_ raspberries."

Hermone snickered, dragging her bottom lip between her teeth as she nodded. "I like raspberries."

"I do, too," he muttered, leaning back with a cheeky grin, "but I have a feeling I'm going to be sick of them by the time we go home tomorrow."

As he slung an arm around her shoulders, she peered up at the sky. "I don't know," she whispered, "maybe this has been sort of fun, all things considered."

Malfoy grinned, planting a soft, lingering kiss to her temple. "Maybe. But I don't have any intention of doing it again for a long time."

Hermione allowed herself to sink into his embrace, taking comfort from the surety of his hold around her. "Fine," she mused, her eyes sliding again towards the darkening sky, "where would you go if you could go anywhere?"

"I've been to a lot of places, Granger," he said softly. "But never on my own terms, free to do as I wished. For a long time, I didn't really make any of my own decisions. And maybe I should have tried to stand up for myself more but..." He fell silent for a long moment, the hard line of his jaw clenching. "Now I feel like I can finally live my own life—and the answer to your question is everywhere. I'd like to see the whole world, a little at a time."

She felt warmth infuse her at the sentiment, even as a chill lifted into the air. "That sounds nice."

"Probably," he said with a mild shrug, "and hopefully I'll have good company along for the trip." His gaze flickered to hers again before he released her, stabbing at the fish to check it once more. "Let's eat."

* * *

The moon shone high in the sky by the time Hermione felt sleep tugging at her eyelids after another long, tiresome day in the wild. She and Malfoy had kept up a steady flow of conversation well into the night, and she couldn't remember the last time she'd so enjoyed spending time with another person.

 _Especially_ given the other person was Malfoy. But as the evening progressed, it became more and more apparent that over the last six months she'd been attempting to block out all the ways he had grown since Hogwarts.

He was smart and witty, if a little self-deprecating, and she wondered at the thickness of the shield she'd erected around herself in order to keep him out.

The more she considered it, the more she came to realise that her walls had slowly been crumbling around them since they'd been made partners, even as she'd clung voraciously to the fragments that remained.

Having forsaken one of the sleeping bags to the hard ground beneath them, they'd unzipped the other and tucked themselves beneath it, speaking of life and the future as they gazed up at the richness of the stars in a blanket of darkness above.

Despite their past, and despite everything else they'd been through, Hermione found herself utterly smitten.

Rarely was she the type to spend her hours pining over boys and what they thought of her; she rarely even went on dates. But she had discovered a connection she'd never anticipated with Draco Malfoy, and it rocked her to her core that she might have gone on, keeping him at arm's length forever.

His low voice as she lounged in his hold sent sparks along her spine, and his soft, secretive smile orchestrated the rhythm of her heart in her chest.

So while she could have happily stayed awake all night, she finally succumbed to sleep in the small hours of the night, unable to fight the pull against her eyelids any longer.

When she awoke the following morning with the sun, his arm acting as her pillow and the fire burned down to little more than embers, she only smiled at the peaceful expression he wore before snuggling back into his hold and letting herself drift back into slumber.

They would only have a couple hours before Robards returned for them, and when she woke again to the sun a little higher in the sky and sleepy grey eyes trained idly on her, she mourned the loss of the new peace they'd found between them.

"Good morning," he said, his lips brushing hers for a moment.

Maybe whatever had transpired between them the night before wouldn't be lost with their return to the bustle of London society—maybe it was the beginning of something she never could have fathomed.

A smile drifted to her face as she returned a soft, "Morning."

He tugged her into his hold for a moment, squeezing his eyes shut as he whispered, "I'm going to memorise this exact moment." Then he cracked an eye open. "And this ground is bloody _uncomfortable_."

"You aren't wrong," she mused, stretching out with a wince as her muscles screamed at her for sleeping on the hard, uneven ground. Her neck had a painful kink, her spine twisted as she extricated herself from his hold, somewhat unwillingly, before rising to her feet.

They hadn't brought anything with them but the packs Robards provided, which hadn't included any extra clothes or toiletries. She longed for a hot shower after two days and nights spent in the woods. And a toothbrush, given her mouth still tasted of raspberries from the night before.

Malfoy followed her to his feet, slinging an unexpected arm around her waist as he dropped a kiss to her temple. For some reason the brief affection set off a storm of butterflies in her stomach and she couldn't hold back a smile.

"We'll need to meet Robards back where he left us," he mused, collecting his things into his bag. Hermione hesitated for a moment and his eyes darted to hers before she began to roll up their sleeping bags.

Idly, she couldn't help herself from wondering how things would change. How real life would factor into the situation once they were back home.

But all she could think of was the way they'd stayed up half the night, talking and discovering one another as if nothing else mattered. Maybe she could allow herself to look forward to learning more about him, and they could simply take it from there.

"Granger." His lips dragged up into a slow smirk when she glanced his way again. "Do you feel like some raspberries?"

Catching his stare again, she breathed, "Absolutely."

* * *

By the time they finished packing their supplies and made the trek back to the river where they'd spent the previous afternoon, it was nearly time to head back to the point where Robards had left them. Malfoy spent much of the walk in quiet introspection and she couldn't help but wonder what was on his mind.

But when Hermione shifted a step closer he tugged her hand into his, interlacing their fingers as if he'd done so a hundred times. Her heart stuttered at the thought.

They collected a bagful each of juicy raspberries from the plentiful bushes before he turned to skim the treeline, twisting his compass awkwardly for a moment in his palm. "I reckon we could cut a path this way and make it back to the field a bit quicker."

"Are you sure?" she teased, biting a raspberry between her teeth.

He offered her a smirk, fluttering the tips of his fingers along the small of her back. "I think so."

She only shifted direction to the route he'd suggested; technically they were already lost. If Robards came for them and they weren't back, he'd have an easier time of finding them with magic than they would without it.

Malfoy fell silent as they walked again, his hand dropping to his side.

"You know, Granger," he said at last as they neared the edge of the treeline. "What happened in the woods these last two days—if you don't… we can pretend it never happened if you prefer."

Hermione stopped short mid-step, leaving him a few steps ahead of her when he spun on the spot, his expression carefully stoic.

"Why would I want to pretend it didn't happen?" she asked, more of an edge to her tone than she'd intended. An uneasy clench settled in the pit of her stomach at the thought that he regretted the conversations they'd shared—the way they'd kissed one another.

He only shrugged, sliding his hands into his pockets. A deep knit nestled between his brows. "I just don't want you to feel obligated to hold to anything. Back in London… I can't imagine this will be acceptable to most people."

Pacing forward, she frowned as she peered up at him. The ire melted from within as she saw the hesitation flash behind his stare, the fear of rejection, and she lifted a palm to his jaw, pressing a brief kiss to his lips. Against his mouth she breathed, "I don't care about what most people think."

As if delayed, his expression broke at last, a soft smile curving his lips.

Hermione pressed on, suddenly feeling the need to lay everything down between them. "If _you_ don't have any problems being seen with _me_."

"No," he replied simply, shaking his head. He ducked in again, his lips capturing her own and igniting sparks within her belly before he drew back. "None whatsoever."

"Okay," Hermione whispered, contentedness settling within her as she laced their fingers again. A smile fought to cross her face at the sparkle in his eye. "I'm glad we've sorted that out, then."

By the time they reached the field, in roughly the same area they'd been not-so-ceremoniously dropped—Hermione could tell by the jagged outcropping of boulders along the edge of the woods—they didn't have long to wait before Robards Apparated in, his expression that of extreme caution.

Idly, she wondered what he'd been expecting to find.

"Hello Auror Robards," she greeted with a nod. "It's nice to see you again."

Robards squinted for a moment, before drawing their wands from his pocket. "And you, Auror Granger—Auror Malfoy." He hesitated, as if unsure whether he wanted to give them their wands, before he distributed them carefully. "I trust you had an enlightening time out here."

"Quite," Draco drawled, twirling his wand for a moment before slipping it into his pocket. "Although I must say I'm rather hungry."

"Ah," Robards said with a nod; his expression was that of uncertainty, as if he couldn't entirely make sense of the situation. "You're free to do as you like now."

Hermione smiled for a moment, enjoying the feel of her wand in her hand once more, before she stowed it away. "Excellent. I think I'll go home and shower and then eat." She shifted her gaze towards Draco, raising her brows. "Would you care to meet me for lunch?"

He nodded with a wry, "Certainly."

Forcing herself to withhold a smile, she glanced towards Robards, clenching her jaw at the blatant surprise painted on his face, his mouth hanging open. Draco smirked, a secret dancing in his eyes as he met her gaze.

"Let's walk a ways," he announced, biting down on his lip around a grin.

Together, they left their stunned superior alone in the field.

And when Draco's fingers laced with hers once more, Hermione couldn't help but think that maybe spending two days forced together in the middle of nowhere was exactly what they needed.

**Author's Note:**

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